


Eyes Brighter Than Stars

by maskedkanekiken



Category: DMMd, allmate high - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:30:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2028549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maskedkanekiken/pseuds/maskedkanekiken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine's day isn't looking so good for Hersha. In fact, he's rather sour about it. Will he be able to find true love by the end of the night? Who knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha yeah hi this is like my literal first multichapter fic and uh i'm not even sure where it's going alright thank you for reading!

Valentine’s day. Hersha kept his eyes down on his phone as he listened to the quiet ramble of his surrounding student body. They were all consistently chattering about the community center’s annual Valentine’s Day Dance that they had been holding since the 20’s. It was getting old, rather quickly.

However, no matter where he went, Hersha simply could not escape the (what was supposed to be) harmless chatter. Instead, it echoed around him, causing him to slowly become more and more hidden by his hair. 

It’s not that he _didn’t_ want to go. Oh no, he really wanted to. He just didn’t want to go alone. The only problem was: no one had ever asked him to the dance. Ever. In history.

And he never expected to be asked either.

Sitting at the drama table at lunch, Hersha immediately became engrossed within his phone, trying to block out all of the Valentine’s day talk around him. Even his brother was going on about it.

Blocking Berta out was a bit easier, he supposed. It’s not like he hadn’t done it his whole life.

The rest of the group wasn’t so easy to block out. The sounds of their voices bounced around in his skull for what seemed like an eternity. He barely recognized anyone talking to him until he feels Berta nudging him. 

Turning his head away from his phone, Hersha raised his eyebrows, wondering why he was being bothered.

"Don’t you just love Valentine’s day, Hersey?"

The shit eating grin on Berta’s face made Hersha glare dangerously at him. He hummed, flicking his hair out of his face, enough to fully glare at the other.

"I don’t know. Don’t you just love having a fork shoved in your eye?"

To prove his point, Hersha raised one of the plastic forks on the table, getting it rather close to Berta’s eye. Berta just sighs, taking it from him. Having a second thought, Berta poked him quickly in the shoulder with said weapon, before turning back to his own tray.

"What’s even your damage when it comes to Valentine’s Day? You’re like Scrooge. Except instead of Tiny Tim dying, it’s Cupid."

The rest of the table giggled a bit, and Hersha scoffed; he doesn’t offer much more of a reply. Instead, he returned to his phone, going back to his scroll, refresh, scroll, scroll, refresh pattern. Berta sighed, returning to the conversation. While he was gone, it had shifted to a small debate on something Shakespeare had said a few hundred years ago.

Once the bell rang, Hersha was quick to stand, gathering his things before disappearing to his English class. At least there he wouldn’t have to hear about Valentine’s Day. Not at all. This pleases him enough that he actually took notes.


	2. Chapter 2

The last bell finally rang, signalling the end to the what seemed to be a 100 hour day. Hersha slowly dragged himself to his brother's car, leaning against it before bringing his hands up to his face. A dull ache had settled itself behind his eyes and he was ready for a four hour nap. It was a good thing he decided not to drive today. Whatever possessed him not to, he silently thanked. 

Hearing Berta approach, Hersha raised his head, letting out a long sigh. Of course his brother wasn’t alone. Of course he happened to have a short, blond German trailing after him like a dog. 

Once the car was unlocked, Hersha sighed once more, stuffing himself in the back. He laid himself down, curled onto one side. Sliding off his glasses, he placed them in the cupholder along the car door. Berta and friend were soon climbing, with Berta pausing as he started the car. 

“Hersha… Are you going to be alright?” 

Worry laced his voice, and even his friend turned to look. It wasn’t much of a secret that Hersha looked like complete hell at the moment, and anyone who happened to have seen him would more than likely feel rather bad for him. 

Hersha let out a long sigh, not bothering to sit up much. 

“Home. Just take me home. Take Kanin home first or whatever you decide to do, just get me home.” 

Berta nodded, though his brother wouldn’t see him. Then he pulled out of the high school’s parking lot, heading towards Kanin’s house before heading to their own. On the way, he attempted a bit of small talk, hoping to figure out what was wrong with his brother. 

“So. Hersey. Are you like… Getting sick? Because if you’re sick, you need to stay away from me. I’m going to the Valentine’s Dance with Kanin and I can’t do that if I’m sick.”

A pain settled into Hersha’s chest, along with the headache. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, before sighing. 

“I’m not sick. You can still go to the dance.”

“Oh. Alright. So then are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine. I’ve just… Had a long day.”

Berta easily accepted the answer, pulling into their driveway. Hersha immediately stomped up the stairs, going to his room for the remainder of the day. His fathers attempted to persuade him to join them at dinner, and he ignored them. Instead, he slid in his headphones, turning his phone on the loudest possible volume.

Truth be told, Hersha wasn’t exactly happy with the way this Valentine’s Day was going. It was finally his senior year, and he was alone. To him, it wasn’t much of a surprise, but it still hurt him deep down. Flicking through his phone, he sighed at how many couple pictures were ‘oh so suddenly’ popping up on instagram. 

He soon grew tired of repeatedly staring at the couples. Locking his phone, he sat up, walking towards his beloved boa’s case. Leaning over, he opened the case, letting his snake curl around his arm, as he gently lifted her out. 

Walking over to his bed, Hersha sat, sighing loudly. Using his free arm, Hersha reached behind his head, sweeping his hair out from beneath him. Placing it on his shoulder, he laid back onto the bed, having it fan out next to him. 

Isadore moved to lay across Hersha’s chest, forked tongue flicking out every now and again. Looking down, Hersha sighed before lovingly stroking the beautiful scales closest to him. 

“Y’know, Isadore. Who needs Valentine’s Day? I’ve got you, right?”

Expecting no response from the reptile, Hersha continued on. 

“Besides… It’s not like I _want_ to go to that shitty, paper cup punch dance. I’m surprised Berta is going, honestly. Didn’t seem like his kind of thing either. Huh. Maybe that Kanin kid promised to blow him if he went… Actually, that was a gross visual. Ew.” 

Hersha stared up at his ceiling, fingers still idly moving along the smooth scales. 

“...I really hate Valentine’s Day…”

Without realizing it until it was too late, tears had already pricked Hersha’s eyes. He gave a shaky sigh, deciding to just let them fall for a bit. It was always easier that way. Hersha eventually wiped his face, not wanting it to be red and tear stained in case someone decided to barge in. 

After a few moments of wallowing in self pity, Hersha picked himself up, going to return Isadore to her case.Glancing at his phone again, he was somewhat shocked to find that it was well past midnight. With another long sigh, he changed into his pajamas, coming out of his room long enough to brush his teeth. 

As he laid down, he registered that it was only a day before Valentine’s Day. The thought made his stomach flip, and he has a quick thought of faking sick. Deciding against it, Hersha flipped himself onto a different side, staring at his wall until he finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bluh bluh, teenage feelings. Who needs them?


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning was a blur of black hair and almost white coffee. Hersha’s alarm had barely decided to go off on time, causing him to throw his body out of bed, quickly hurrying into his closet to find _something_ to wear. It didn’t venture very far from his normal black on black attire. 

Rushing downstairs, Hersha managed to slam into a tall figure, landing perfectly on his ass. Blinking up at what turned out to be his father, Trip, Hersha quickly rushes out an apology. He’s even quicker to hop to his feet, scuttling quickly out of the door. 

It wasn’t until he threw himself into his car did he realize that his hair hadn’t been brushed. Letting out a long sigh, he dug through his glove box, grabbing the extra brush he usually kept. As he finally managed to pull out of the driveway, he started to tug through all of the knots and tangles. During stoplights, he quickly started to braid his hair, not wanting to deal with the curls this morning. 

By the time he made it to school, not only was he presentable, but he was also barely on time as he slipped into his first class. Sitting down, he tossed his braid over his shoulder, letting it rest against the back of his chair. So far so good.

As the day progressed, everything slowly began to fall apart again. Quite a few people were asking if he was ready for the most _awesome_ party ever. Of course, they were only talking about the Valentine’s Dance, that was only a day away. Each person got a no, a wary smile, and a quick leaving Hersha. 

There wasn’t a repeat of yesterday, though he was brooding as he threw himself into his car after the last bell. Hooking up his iPod, he let out a long sigh. Maybe tomorrow would be a good day to skip. Maybe. Thinking on it as he turned the car on, he shook his head. There was no way he could miss school. 

Well fuck him sideways. 

His fingers tapped restlessly against the steering wheel. They moved to piddle with his braid. Then back to the wheel. 

Hersha decided that instead of feeling restless at home, he headed towards the nearest Starbucks, where he would work on all of his drama papers. Maybe even his other classes. Everything was always better with a caramel frappuccino. 

He was there for what seemed like hours, with many frappuccinos drank and gone. The thought of going home never crossed his mind. That is, until he got a rather angry text from his father, wondering just _where_ he was. Quickly gathering his things, he rushed up towards the front counter, tossing change into the tip jar. It was at least four dollars. Skittering out of the door and into his car, he quickly made his way home. 

He almost flew through the door, sliding to a stop next to his usual dinner table seat. Berta and Trip both stare at him like he had lost his earthly mind. Hersha laughed nervously, slipping into his chair under the oh so watchful gaze of his father, Virus. 

The dinner was nothing special. Something that Trip had thrown together at last minute when Virus had decided he was going to _demand_ to have a family dinner. Especially considering Hersha skipped out the previous day. 

It seemed to last an eternity, and Hersha was running out of patience. With all the caffeine running through his veins, he could barely sit still. His fingers tapped urgently against the table, or they would move to fix his glasses. Sometimes they would stop to clean them completely. 

Virus eventually set down his fork, intertwining his fingers in front of him as he tilted his head to the side, eyes settling on Hersha carefully. Berta and Trip continue eating, eyes darting between Virus and Hersha. They wondered what was going on. Then again it wasn’t unusual for Virus to suddenly stop and begin thinking about who knows what. 

Hersha eventually began to notice the eyes on him, and he turned his head, meeting his father’s gaze. Nothing was said in such a long time, Hersha began to fidget again. His leg bounced, or his foot poked at the rug below them. Anything to slightly distract him from his father’s merciless gaze. 

After another 30 seconds, Virus sighed, setting his hands down onto the table. 

“How much coffee have you had to drink?” 

Hersha blinked. That was all? 

“Uh. Probably like. Five cups. From Starbucks. In the small variety.” 

“We’ve talked about you having too much coffee.”

“Yep.” 

“You need to stop drinking too much coffee.”

“Got it.”

“I’m being serious,” Virus raised an eyebrow. 

“I know,” Hersha shifted again, wanting this conversation to be done and over with. 

It’s not that he didn’t mind talking with his father. He just didn’t like to be stared at while talking to his father. Especially when he could be in trouble. Virus didn’t normally just blatantly stare at him, and it was definitely making him very uncomfortable. 

Trying to hide, he lifted his water glass, bringing it to his face to take a long sip. His eyes glance away from Virus, towards the other wall. It didn’t last very long, and he set the glass back down, letting his fingers tap against it nervously. 

Eventually Virus seemed to have given up his little interrogation, instead changing the conversation towards the next day. Apparently he and Trip would be chaperoning the dance again this year. Hersha thought about disappearing into thin air right then and there. Even his fathers were going to the dance. That definitely hurt his ego. 

His fidgets eventually stop and he began to stare blankly at his plate. Sighing, he stood, asking to be excused. Trip gave him the okay, cutting of anything else Virus had to say. He knew when Hersha had enough, and this was enough. 

Hersha dragged himself to his bedroom, immediately throwing himself onto his bed. 

Laying on his stomach, he stared at his wall, eventually deciding to undo his braid. It laid against his back in long waves, seeming almost like a blanket. He’d eventually get up to brush it out, he supposed. But for right now, he was going to lay on his bed and stare at his wall. 

Tomorrow would be ultimate hell. He could feel it.


End file.
